Overture
by Arcend
Summary: "I chooseth this fate of my own free will. However, only you will bear the responsibility for your actions, no matter what end they may bring about." The deck was stacked against him, but he made his choice.


_Suddenly, he hadn't been on top of Tartarus, standing in the face of death. Instead, he was sitting in the very velvet chair he always sat when he was here, in this elevator room that was constantly ascending. Opposite him sat Igor, the pointy eared, hook nosed man, in his usual black suit and pristine white gloves. As usual, he adorned a face splitting grin that never seemed to leave him._

 _He hadn't expected the scene before him, but it hadn't surprised him either. The Proprietor of the Velvet Room always had such unexpectedly good timing; it was just something he got used to._

 _…_

 _He kept silent as he waited for the man seated across the table to speak, the latter fixing his already immaculate suit while giving him a carefree look. A look he did not share. Worried could barely scratch the tip of how he was feeling at the moment. It was hardly often to be staring into the face of death, to be standing against the gruesome end of humanity, only to be whisked into a never-stopping elevator, with a cryptic old man who gave more questions than answers, and a gorgeous woman with more questions for him than he ever did._

 _After a while, Igor removed his fingers off his tie and folded them above his desktop. One cluttered with papers that he had no reason to have, not for a man who lives in different dimension._

 _… He supposed even magical beings that can fuse and create world breaking Personas had paperwork to do._

 _"Calm down, esteemed guest. Do try and recall that the Velvet room exists between the conscious and subconscious, in a space outside the concepts of time and space."_

 _A magical being that lives in a moving elevator in dimension outside the concepts of time and space but still had paperwork to face. Strangely, he could feel himself relax into the harp-shaped seat as he imagined that thought. The Old Proprietor always did had that effect on him._

 _He remained silent as he reclined into his seat, prompting Igor to carry on, whose smile widen at his evident comfort._

 _"Do you remember what I once said? That the strength of your bonds correlates to yours, and would eventually decide your potential?"_

 _The blue haired boy stay silent again. He vaguely remember those lines, but he didn't understand his reason for bringing it up. His Social Links each granted him immense power, that much was evident when Thor annihilated the Hanged Man Shadow or when Siegfried cut down the members of Strega with ease. Yet even with that power, it had proved futile against the Night Queen. Each conflagration died against her skin, blizzards that could freeze worlds was nothing more than a gentle breeze against her face and thunderstorms rained down but had affected her as much as raindrops did._

 _"Can you hear it…? Each voice so weak and soft. Almost like a dying flame, individually they matter not. But together… they could be so much more. Tell me, can you feel it?"_

 _Igor broke him out of his musing, and this time it was he who remained silent as he stared at him with bloodshot eyes and a wide smirk._

 _He was waiting for something, the boy noticed, waiting for something from him._

 _So he closed his eyes, and strained his ears. He had an inkling of what Igor meant, and as he reached out into his Sea of Souls, his guess had proved correct._

 _For the past year, he had built unbreakable bonds that shaped him. His Social Links, each one was a trial that bettered him, each was a representation of his bond with them, and each bond manifested themselves in the Persona that came to be from their friendship. His bonds made him who he was today, changed him from who he once was, and he wouldn't have had it any other way._

 _And as he reached for them, so had they._

 _It was an indescribable feeling, as if everyone had their hands on his back and giving him the support when he was at his lowest, their shared joy when he succeeded, and the push he had required at the verge of giving up. Truly, an indescribable feeling, and this feeling warmed him like hot chocolate during winter._

 _The Social Links gave his bonds power, and the bonds strengthened him. As he got closer to them, to his friends, they empowered him in return. Such was the Social Links, an exchange of power._

 _The slight incline of his head was but barely a nod, but Igor took it as his cue to continue._

 _"Remarkable"_

 _If it was possible, his grin grew even wider, and even the gorgeous assistant gave him a barely restrained smile, as if bursting with joy. Considering Elizabeth, perhaps it wasn't that far off the truth._

 _"Now then… each of these voices, small and unimpressive, each different from the rest. But all of them share the same intent, and only wish to be able to aid you in your journey. Alone, they are weak… But together… together they will bring about a great change in you. Now is the time, to draw upon the true strength of the bonds that you have forged!"_

 _Deep within his psyche, his Sea of Souls became restless, as if Igor's words had incited them into motion. Within it, he reined them in, and where he had once reached out to them, this time he pulled._

 _And in response, each and every fragments of his soul followed._

 _Truly, an indescribable feeling. Each of his masks had only been a segment of his strength, each Persona only a piece of his true potential. And as he willed, all of them came forward._

 _The strength he felt was unbelievable. Each being manifested their strength within him, and that rush of power invigorated him._

 _The angels, celestial beings from the Heavens, blessed him with their holy arts. Servants of God they were, and the holy magic from the High Heavens flowed through him. Their blessings healed his aching body and their faith strengthen his failing resolve._

 _From the opposite spectrum, each demon roared as they poured their might into him. The creatures that came from the depths of the Underworld were as fearsome as the stories, and such was their power that gushed out of him. He could feel their rage beneath his skin, the demonic power within his veins, pushing his body to its utmost potential, and the primal instinct to destroy that he reined back._

 _Next came the Gods of old, divine beings from a higher plane of existence. Their existence belied time, and when they granted him their might and wisdom, he felt as if he could see the world from a new perspective, and shape the world with his thoughts._

 _Then the dragons descended, majestic creatures that ruled the skies. Each swing of their tails could level mountains, and each swipe of their claws would create trenches. Dragons were symbol of power and dominance, and when they imparted with him a part of their essence, he understood why. With scales that could shrug off even the greatest of blows, and claws that could pierce even the toughest of defences, he was a dragon in all but form._

 _Finally, the Heroes of Old showed him the way. Mortal that they were, yet each as impressive as the beings that came before. They had not the blessings and protection of the heavens, nor the destructive might of the daemons. They lacked the divinity that granted power, and could never match up to the primal strength of the dragons. But with wits and skill they took down such beings, and with finesse they conquered the supernatural. And as they passed down the skills that hunted beasts and the techniques that slayed gods, he felt invincible._

 _He felt like an apex predator. He sat at the top of the food chain. His form belied his strength, and his strength were transcendent. Nothing could stop him; nothing could stand in his way._

 _But he knew. Even with the strength he possessed, it was not enough. For Death could not be taken down with mere strength and the Fall could not be stopped by mortal means. He knew his strength best, and it told him that it wouldn't be enough. It never will._

 _So it came as a surprise when the aforementioned strength leaked out of him. Pure undulated power, so thick that it was even visible, coming from each of his Personas, powered by each of his bonds. The power coalesced above the mahogany desk, forming a big ball of light, causing him to avert his eyes. Despite so, how the Proprietor kept his bulging eyes open, or how the Avatar of Power beside him stood there unflinchingly remained a mystery to him._

 _As fast as the light had appeared, it died down just as quick, eliciting a gasp from the man before him._

 _"This… this is!"_

 _Where the light once floated and shone, spun a card, reminiscent of the tarot cards that represented the Social Links, one that he had never seen before. But while that itself was shocking, he didn't know what was surprising. The fact that his potential had manifested in a completely new Arcana, or that the ever calm Igor also had a look of genuine surprise, his constant grin no longer where it always was._

 _I'd never thought I'll ever see this with my... What a surprise..." Igor mumbled in shock and wonder. After all few seconds, Igor spoke again, this time with his usual smile carrying a tone of joy and anticipation, akin to a child about to open his Christmas gift. Youthful excitement shone in his eyes. He had never seen him like this, and judging from Elizabeth's reaction, she likely hadn't either._

 _"Behold, the last power you and I shall unveil...the power to bring about a new beginning, or the ultimate end..." If it was possible, Igor's excitement seem to grew, churning out words even faster and louder than before._

 _"It may be possible now, with this newfound power...you may be able to defeat, the one who cannot be defeated!"_

 _That had caught his attention. The Night Queen had been leagues above his power, and he was akin to a mere speck of dust compared to her strength. But for the near omniscient man before him to proclaim such a line… was it possible?_

 _Silently, the card started floating towards his direction. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to reach out his hand. And as he did, the card landed gently onto his palm, going back to spinning slowly as it had been doing all along._

 _"What you have in your hands, is the power of the Universe... Nothing is outside the realm of possibility for you now!" He proclaimed grandiosely._

 _Following his words, the car- no, the Universe Arcana that had been glowing softly, let out a large flash, forcing him to avert his eyes away. But he didn't, he wouldn't. For the Universe represented his potential. It represented the peak of his power, built upon the countless friendships he had created, and there was no way he would look away from such._

 _As his eyes narrowed and squinted, he stared as the Universe Arcana shimmered and drifted into his body, into his psyche. It had integrated itself within his Sea of Soul, along the Wild Card, and became a facet of his power. He could feel it, the silent hum of the Universe, deep within him. It expanded his knowledge and widened his horizons. The Universe represented his potential, and as endless as the Universe was, so was his potential._

 _Yet he knew. The height of her power. The true strength of Nyx, the Night Queen, personification of death. And at that moment, he knew he had been offered a choice._

 _And he made his decision._

* * *

Blue silver orbs woke up to the playful tickling of the grass.

His head ached in pain and he felt the dryness of a desert in his throat.. His body sore and aching, to the point all he could do was to lie there.

He continued lying there as he let his eyes wander in his sockets, taking in the sights around him, or at least, as much as the blue hair that blocked half his face allowed him to. He didn't feel like getting up, not with how much pain he felt right now.

Which brought the question: where was he?

He was pretty sure it was still spring, yet the leaves burned auburn, and the mighty trunks, each thicker than his head, was a charred black. Following them with his eyes, the forest seem endlessly, pointlessly big, yet there were no signs of animal habitation... why?

Rather, how had he gotten here?

The boy remembered a blue elevator, where he spoke to a man with a hooked nose, before setting out to- **PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN HARBINGER PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN SEAL PAIN PAIN PAIN SHADOW PAIN PAIN MOON PAIN.**

'"Urgh!" The pain that hit him was like nothing he knew. His brain felt clawed, churned up and smashed, all at the same time. And that was excluding the burning feeling that licked his core, quite painfully he should mention. But thankfully, the pain faded as soon as it came, leaving him even more exhausted than before, and that's when he noticed the first issue.

The moon. A full moon.

The boy rubbed his eyes before opening them again. The full moon could easily have gotten his attention, but there was obviously something very strange with what he was looking at. Indeed, a part of the moon had been shattered. Despite never had been a big fan of the moon, seeing one third of it shattered into itsy bitsy pieces made him felt uneasy and uncomfortable - he couldn't recall, but knew he had suffered much under its gaze - but also a sense of relief.. _Why?_

He tried not to think about it. The moment his thoughts even strayed near, he could feel the aching threatening to come back already. It would seem the moon and his past had a shared history, both triggering the same ache. He wasn't sure why, but something told him that he didn't have time to find out.

That something might have been the distant howling.

Wolves. Joy. His body still felt like crap, but if he doesn't move, he would most likely become literal crap once the wolves had their fill.

His thighs burned, but he pushed himself to his feet. Between having sore legs and being six feet under, the choice wasn't hard to make. Ignoring the sharp pain in his knees, he forced himself to start running. He didn't know where he was running, but anywhere was fine as long he was away from the predators, away from the beasts. His body felt like lead, but he pushed on and ran. It was almost impossible to see where he was going in the thick vegetation, but he persevered. Many times he tripped, over overgrown roots, he cursed his lack of footwear and got up and ran again. His lungs burned as he sucked in air greedily. In the darkness of the trees, he might as well have been running in circles but he couldn't stop, lest he be but game for the wolves.

The wolves howled again. And this time, it was a lot closer. Shit. Shit. Shit. He let loose a myriad of less than colourful vocabulary that he rarely did. Then again, he was rarely in a situation where he could be dismembered and disemboweled in a few minutes.

The adrenaline pumped harder, and his legs felt like they were gonna give out soon. Red and swollen, his bare foot were longer capable of taking another step. But a soft glow warmed his chest. Between the rustling of the leaves and the wind blowing against his face, he could almost hear whispers cheering him on _._ And he flew.

He ran at speeds double, almost triple of it before. The exhaustion seemed to fade away, along with the pain. But he knew better. Taking a quick glance downwards, his feet were still as swollen as before. Whatever had happened hadn't healed him. It had only numbed the pain.

Behind him, the rustling of grass echoed, while in front, the forest thinned. Just a little bit more. If he could reach civilisation, he could get help.

The thought re-energised him, but a sudden feeling tugged at his gut, and on instincts, he threw himself to the side.

His pride was the least that was hurt when he kissed soil, but he was sure it hurt less than being mauled.

The black shadow that stood where he once was bigger than the wolf he had been expecting, but as his vision focused, he saw something than many would find horrifying.

The figure, bipedal, was decorated with large white spikes, by the shoulder blades and down the spine. It had claws, wide and sharp, that were more than capable of tearing its prey apart. Where the face should have been, was a clay white mask, with red markings on it. Yellow orbs filled the eye slots, and they glowered with heartlessness.

It was strange. Even excluding its odd armor pieces, it felt nothing like an animal. The malice it leaked. The bloodlust it exuded. It wasn't bestial, it was abhorrent. It was no animal. It was a monster.

And as if it hadn't been threatening enough, the pack that gathered behind it, growled lowly while taking little steps towards their prey. They weren't predators that preyed for necessity, they were hunters that hunted for the pleasure.

And while none of them had been as big and imposing as the first, they were nevertheless menacing.

The boy analysed the situation calmly. He was clearly in a bad situation. _Grim_ even. Yet other than the drops of sweat that slid past his cheeks, not a sign of fear leaked from his expression.

 _(How nostalgic...) (Nostalgic indeed...)_

The situation was strangely familiar, and it triggered a strange memory of a rooftop. Where he fought his first battle, where his journey begun. Back then he faced a similar crisis, but managed to awaken his power and began the spiraling of fate.

 _(It has begun anew.) (The cycle starts.) (When does it end?)_

The sharp growls brought him back to reality, and he noticed how massively disadvantageous a situation he was in. He was outnumbered and surrounded, not to mention unarmed. As he was now, he wasn't able to do anything.

 _(Nothing he says…) (He thinks he can't do anything!)_

He shouldn't be.

 _(He can do nothing?) (But he can do anything!)_

Yet the warmth that emanated from his chest said otherwise. The warmth enveloped his full body, and knowledge flooded into him. Suddenly, he felt like more than what he was.

 _(Call for us.) (Yes call for us!)_

With the knowledge and power given, he felt big. Big, endless and eternal. And if there was one thing he knew, it was that he no longer needed his 'evoker'.

 _(You already know our names) (Let us loose!)_

He felt like the universe.

 _(((Call our names!)))_

And the _**universe was his.**_

The influx of power startled the pack, and whether out of aggression or self preservation, they lunged

For the boy, time suddenly slowed.

 _The nearest of them was only paces away, and the rest wasn't far away either. Yet the stoic look never faded. He wasn't worried. He had no reason to. The warmth informed him of the dangers he was in, but with the power he held, it had been nothing._

Three steps away.

 _He dived into the Sea of Souls. In a completely empty dimension, a large set of ethereal gates formed. The gates were one of a kind. - Some held murals, showing figures accomplishing great deeds. Part of it were made with otherworldly materials, while some seem intangible even. Others were constructed out of nature itself, some walls of mud, pillars of flowing water, and columns of molten lava. It was as if a bunch of children split it into separate bits on a paper and each of them drew it whatever they wanted. A complete mismatch. Chaotic even._

 _But every design here symbolised something._

 _They each have their story to tell._

 _They all represented a part of him._

 _They all belong to him._

 _For they were him, and he was them._

Two steps away.

 _The blue haired boy stretched out his right arm, and placed it gently on the gate. He could hear their voices, feel their presence, and sense their power._

 _He could suddenly see them, appearing behind the gate. Each embodied an aspect of power, and they came to welcome their master, kneeling in respect._

 _And at the forefront, three beings of gargantuan power._

 _The first was like a reflection of himself, but more artificial to say the least. Thick metal plating that replaced soft supple skin. It had untainted white hair and piercing red eyes, and a large lyre on it's back. Its features were human enough, except for a huge speaker embedded on its abdomen. The two of them were so different, yet they were more similar than any other. The boy looked on as his mechanical doppelganger bowed his head and felt a small smile slipped through his stoicism._

 _The second, a tall figure that exuded death, as if that was its sole purpose. It wore a mask sculpted after a dinosaur skull, and a heavy leather jacket. Its limbs were covered with white glove that reached his elbow, and boots that went to its thighs. Chains that went from it's shoulders connected eight coffins together, and they seemed like its cape and acted as its shield. A sheathe was held by his waist, and the sword, though plain and without adornments, reeked of eerie rot and ominous demise. It was not blade of beauty, nor a blade for battle. It was blade for the sole purpose of killing, for reaping souls, for his duty. In the past he might have let out a shiver in fear, but now he knew that it was more likely to destroy itself than to ever hurt him, and that made his glee grow. As if the being read his thoughts, it reined in his aggression, and lowered his head in obedience. His smile grew bigger._

 _The last figure was like a strange mix of the previous two. Like the first figure, it held a strange resemblance to the boy. Wings that sprouted from its back fold themselves at its waist. Following the avian body parts, the external bone on its back was shaped like like a hang glider. The whole body was dyed white, except for the again piercing red eyes, and the four coffins that hanged from the thick chain which coiled on its left arm. It nodded in approval, and reach it's free hand out towards the gate. The smile that once graced his feature had became a maniacal grin._

 _They were manifestations of himself, and just as each represented a part of him, he was part of each of them. They were his avatars, they were his persona. They were one and the same in all but body._

 _And just as they had welcomed him, he welcomed them in return._

One step away. It leapt.

The gates flew open and exploded into nothingness. The power, their power. All of them dissipated and rushed towards him, and the feeling invigorated him.

' _ **Welcome back**_ ', he could almost hear them whisper.

Perhaps an illusion of light, but his eyes glowed blue.

"...Persona." It was less than half a whisper, but it was enough.

He had called for their powers, and with power they answered.

 **I AM THOU AND THOU ART I**

The moment the beast came into contact with him; a slight touch, a chilling wind gushed, and blinded everything in viewing range.

 **FROM THY SEA OF SOUL I'VE COMETH**

When the wind subsided, the monsters that had had him surrounded and cornered had all but became nothing more than popsicles.

 **I AM THE WINTER FAE THAT DISCARDED ITS FROLICKING**

Sheets of snow covered the leaves layer over layer while the bark was encased in thick ice. The woods that once boast of it's autumn leaves had became a scenery of pure white.

 **I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF MALICE AND EVIL**

The layer of snow froze and became iced leaves. The wolf that had laid its claws on the young adolescent was near unidentifiable. The ice covered each and every inch, while filling any gaps that appeared till it had become nothing more than a giant popsicle twice its original size.

And floating behind the boy, a massive magenta jester hat and boots complimented its charcoal skin. Frost grew like moss beneath it, and each laughter created more ice that froze the world around it. Its mouth, a huge smirk, decorated with large canines seemed to swallow all the heat, while its eyes, a burning scarlet, froze all in its place.

The spirit of ice let out a chilling breath, and the snow covered grass instantly became a skating rink. It let out a deafening, twisted laughter, and the beasts all shattered into tiny atom sized pieces.

 **I AM**

* * *

He decided that he disliked the government of this world.

"One of the oldest forests in Remnant, Amaranth Patch is takes up approximately a third of Patch's landmass."

While he was grateful that whatever authorities were in charge had been willing to give him food and shelter, neither the surveillance system hidden within the lampshades nor the two men standing guard outside his room had went beyond his notice.

"Almost comparable to one of Remnant's Seven Wonders, it is one of the most popular tourist destinations, being the location of almost two dozen films…"

Not to mention the fact that he has been stuck in this room for almost a week already…

"Not to mention the _historical significance_ it holds, if the Valean Historical Records hold true, where General Whiteman..."

...Unlawful confinement. That's right isn't this unlawful confinement? He ought to… Oh right. This is the government, which means there is no meaning in reporting this.

"And with _all_ the trees being frozen down to every single root, we erase all that from the history books, since there's no way the future generation are gonna believe it when we tell them Amaranth Patch used to be a nice shade of red. I mean, take a look at this, it's a _bloody_ winter wonderland out there!"

Despite his dissatisfaction, he had the decency to at least look away from the image the man was showing him on what seemed like a futuristic tablet - _a scroll -_ in guilt. Not that it helped. If anything, turning away from the man made him look at the gentle snow outside his window. It was a nice winter day, perfect for snowball fights and making snow angels.

Except it was _spring._

Inwardly he chastised himself for overdoing it, seeing as he had lost himself in his moment of power and let loosecompletely. Hindsight was 20/20 they said, he thought as he turned his attention back to the man with ram horns on his head.

Horns. On. His. Head.

He was shocked and at a loss of words when he first met him, not that it meant much considering he was wordless all the time, but had gotten used to it over the last few days as they spoke, or rather Matthew spoke and he listened. Faunus wasn't the only thing he had to get used to. Remnant. Grimm. Dust. He had to be around seventeen, considering his own pubescent body, but he couldn't seem to recall any of these terms, if he had ever learnt them at all.

When he enquired regarding his situation for the umpteen time, Matthew seem to snap out of his rambling as he gave a wry smile.

"While you have passed all the health tests surprisingly, considering the fact we found ya in the middle of that snowing wastescape, we couldn't find any identification on you. You could be an illegal immigrant ha!... Well, jokes aside, you could just be from one of those rural villages living in Grimmlands, but that also begs the question of what you were doing on Patch, but I guess you can't answer that huh?"

The Faunus gave him a knowing look and got out of his seat. As he reached for the door he turned back, "Well, just rest well ya? I'm sure your memory will come back any time soon. And don't worry, I'm sure once the Council finishes their investigation you'll be free to go. We can't have civilians wandering around, especially if there's a Grimm capable of freezing half an island in a blink of an eye nearby, don't you agree?"

As he bid the kind Faunus farewell, he grimaced as he thought about his amnesia. While he wasn't exactly happy to be stuck in surveillance for so long, he was at least grateful for the presence of his caretaker. He knew it was just him doing his job, but he was glad that Matthew was kind enough to drop by every day and spend time with him, checking on his condition while helping him recall the world around them. _Remnant, he learnt._

He wish he could tell him that there isn't a ice-controlling Grimm around, if there existed one at all. He wanted to tell him that he was the one who froze Amaranth Patch and half the island, to let him know that he could likely freeze the whole island with some effort...

Yeah, maybe he should just listen to Matthew and wait a couple more days.

* * *

It happened in the middle of the night.

At a wide clearing in the forest.

Out of nowhere, formed from nothing.

A mask of blue appeared.

There was nothing else, yet there was something there.

The air distorted, then suddenly it appeared.

Fluid almost.

It expanded and gave form. Hands slammed onto the ground first. They bubbled, distorted themselves, and arms _grew_ from the appendages.

Forearms. Elbows. Hands. Elbows. Arms.

One which split into two divided into four. They _twisted_ and fell apart, only to rejoin back together, and at the end of it all stood what could only be called a monster **.**

It was an amalgamation of the upper limbs, with no beginning and no end. Each arm were as thick as a man was, and held a simple blade. By proportion each blade was about the size of a shortsword, but in reality _each one was a size of a tree._

The only free hand picked up the mask.

It was no longer a monster. It was a disaster.

It faced the broken moon, and let out a painful silent roar.

* * *

As she relaxed into her throne, she laughed as she looked out of her castle. The power was nothing special, compared to what she was capable, but its presence was having an effect on her lesser Grimms, even this far out in the Grimmlands.

"What a pleasant surprise… Now, what will your next move be… Ozpin?"

* * *

He had been in his bed, sound asleep when it appeared.

 _As it_ _created itself from nothing, the whole of Remnant could feel its presence._

In his dreams, he was alone in a monorail when he noticed a velvet blue butterfly flying past.

 _At that point of time nobody knew what its birth signified._

He was in a school, walking alongside a girl in pink and a taller boy with a baseball cap, neither faces he could recall.

 _But as we will come to find out a few years later…_

Sitting around a coffee table, he smiled as he watched them banter. There were 10 of them now. Looking at his friends, he felt a joy he hadn't felt in years.

 _Its birth would mark the beginning of the end_

One of them was gone. Everyone still smiled and talked, but things were no longer the same. They were hurt, hardened, stronger. _They were resolved._

 _For the_ _ **Arcana Magician**_ _is the herald of Fall._

And then he was all alone.

 _-Valean Historical Records_

When the roaring stopped, the empty bed was already cold.

* * *

High up in his tower, the man turned towards the wide windows, his cup of coffee forgotten as it laid on his desk, content spilling everywhere. His eyes widen under his silver locks, as he stared into the horizon in disbelief. The silence was only interrupted by the clockwork above, and after awhile did he let out a breath he did not knew he was holding.

"What have you done… Salem?"

* * *

It was strange, really. Despite having stayed in this room obediently for the past few days, he chose to escape. Even though he knew he was under confinement by what was probably the relevant authorities, he ran. All because of the strange feeling of unease that welled up within him. He'd chalked it up to his guts, but he wasn't sure if guts had always hummed in his chest and led the way in this frozen wastescape.

Still in his pajamas, he idly wondered if this made him a criminal as he sprinted. But what surprised him was how effortless it was. His body fell into practiced movement and despite not pacing himself at all, he couldn't even feel himself tire. It was as if he had bottomless stamina.

As he sprinted, it was again only his _'gut'_ that he managed to dive out of the way, just in time as the air split and a massive blade stabbed into snow and soil. As he rolled into the shrubs, knocking snow all over him, he laid low as took in the grotesque sight. A black arm reached out to pull the sword out, as it waved its mask around like it was looking around.

 _Looking for him, he realised. What the fu-_

He threw his body to the side dodging another blade as it lodged itself against the ground. And that was after it went through four trees. He tried not to imagine what would happen if it hit him. He probably didn't have to try very hard to do so.

Getting on his feet, he focussed on the monster ahead of him as he put out his hand. Something of this caliber should be a piece of cake. He just had to make sure to control it so that the frost did not spread too far out.

"...Persona!"

…?! He was filled with confusion as he dived out of the way. "Persona. Persona. PERSONA!" Why? Why wasn't it working? The power he had at his fingertips days ago, why could he not use them now?

In response the monster swung another of its blades at him.

 _(Call my name.) (Yes call our names.) (You have to call for us.)_

Confused and panicking, he failed to react in time. As the gigantic sword slammed into him, his _'gut'_ pulsated. As he flew through the air, he noted that was likely the only reason he wasn't smashed into mincemeat immediately. Crashing against a trunk, he bounced onto the ground and rolled out of sight of the monster.

 _(Get up.) (You have to get up.)_

Blood pooled beneath him. As he laid there unmoving, he noted that he could not feel neither of his legs, while his arms had been twisted in a weird angle with something like bone protruding out of his right arm.

 _(This is just the beginning.) (Yes, your journey has just begun.)_

As he laid there numb, he felt his conscious fade.

 _(Everything ends here if you give up.) (Things are far from over.)_

His limbs were are broken.

 _(You know what you have to do.) (Say it.) (Call for us.) (You already know our names, don't you?)_

He was losing so much blood.

 _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_ _(Our names.)_

He was dying.

 _(I art thou,) (and thou art I.) (My name is…)_

" _I will always be by your side, Minato-san."_

 _(What is your name?)_

 **I ART THOU, THOU ART I**

Energy flowed into his body as if a dam had burst open. Open wounds closed. Muscles repaired themselves. He could feel the blood in his body replenish at an alarming rate. His limbs, twisted beyond belief, fixed themselves. As his arm popped back into place, he was confident that white thing had indeed been bone. He got on his feet gingerly, testing his fresh limbs. As he stabilized himself, he stood calmly as the monster clambered within sight. As it got near, it let loose another voiceless howl as it swung another blade at him.

 **FROM THY SEA OF SOULS I HAVE COMETH**

Metal hit metal. The monster shook its mask as if showing confusion as the giant blade was held in place against an equally massive lyre. Using more hands, it swung a bunch of blades at the giant entity. As his red eyes glowed in the night, he pushed back the first blade, and used his lyre to knock away all the incoming blades. Losing grip, the blades fell, each causing a small tremor as it landed on the ground.

 **I AM THE MASTER OF STRINGS**

It shook wildly, as if angry because it lost its knives. Slamming all its hands onto the ground, it bounced into the air planning on smashing the Persona into the ground.

 _Concentration, resourcefulness, action, and creativity. As the reverse Magician Arcana, the_ _ **Arcana Magician**_ _represented its exact opposite._

As he looked at the monster in the sky, he felt a myriad of emotions. Anger. Acceptance. Pity.

 _Without a face to wear its mask, or a head to guide its actions. A mindless entity._

 **I AM ORPHEUS. I AM YOU**

Orpheus raised his lyre to match the Arcana Magician. As its arms reached for him, its intentions clear as day, he swung his lyre, and snow flew everywhere as the Arcana Magician smashed to the ground.

 _Unable to think. Incapable of thought._

As the snow was settling, his voice rang in the silent battlefield.

"Destroy it."

Orpheus strummed his strings.

In the distance, a red-eyed crow flew off.

* * *

"Two weeks ago this place was a forest of historical value known for its stunning beauty."

He kept him mouth shut, the plate of cookies and the cup of milk untouched. After what he had been through he was sure he could have more than just a plate of cookies and milk. Bu-

"Yesterday this place was a frozen wasteland, a winter wonderland befitting of Atlas."

Maintaining his calm facade, he kept his neutrality as he stared at the cookies.

"Today... there is a newly formed crater lake where the forest used to be."

The wave of guilt he felt threatened to break his facade, the slight twitch of his eye being the only indication that he felt something hearing that line.

Sitting across him, the well-dressed man reached for a cookie. As he did so, he motioned the blue haired boy to do the same. As he snacked (read: wolfed down), the man continued what he was saying.

"It was you who did all that, am I wrong?"

The fact that he did not choke on the cookie spoke volume of his stoic. _Well played, sir. Well played._

"I have an eyewitness that saw you destroy that Grimm with that lyre. I assume you flash-froze the Amaranth Patch in a similar fashion."

...

"Between destroying a National Heritage Site and then proceeding to bombing the same location, you have to realise the Council is very adamant on finding the one responsible. They have a reputation to uphold, after all. The fact you smashed your window to escape in the middle of the night does not help your case."

He grimaced. Whoever this man was, he is certainly high up on the ladder to know so much. And if he knows so much the Council probably already does.

"What do you want?"

His brown eyes widen slightly in surprise as he stared straight into his bluish grey eyes. Shortly after they narrowed, and a small smile graced his lips.

"Very well, I shall get right down to it. For the things soon to come, I could use someone of your strength. Against Grimm of that magnitude, and especially against _her."_

'!' His eyes widened slightly

He involuntarily let out a reaction, meager as it is, yet one the man across him did not miss.

He already expected her eventual descent after defeating the Arcana Magician, but to hear that from a stranger, a non-Persona user no less, filled him with surprise, and gods forbid - _hope_.

...

"Shadow." When the man showed confusion, he repeated himself. "Not Grimm. That was a Shadow."

"Ozpin. Headmaster of Beacon Academy." Ozpin extended his hand out as he gave him a small smile.

Whatever Ozpin is planning, he wasn't interested.

He wasn't interested in playing his games.

But the appearance **Arcana Magician** tells him that it has begun anew.

The spiralling of fate.

And if he wants to stop her, he'll need all the help he can get.

"Minato. Arisato Minato."


End file.
